


Life Hurts

by Hodgeheg002



Category: Thunderbirds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26559043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hodgeheg002/pseuds/Hodgeheg002
Summary: Life is painful, especially when you're part of an international rescue organisation.My version of the Whump Bingo Cards.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	Life Hurts

It was supposed to be romantic and relaxing, a rare three weeks off with no calls or alarms, just endless lazy days filled with sunshine and sea. John had personally programmed the course, creating a bespoke trip that gave the newlyweds the privacy they craved whilst scheduling in the odd stop so that Penelope didn’t throw Gordon overboard too early into the trip. John didn’t think that Penelope was prone to bouts of violence, but he also knew that Gordon had a slightly alarming sense of humour at times and an innate ability to hone in on the one thing that would annoy his companions, especially when he felt cooped up. The periods of convalescence after his various accidents had led to many pranks being pulled when he was mobile again, and John  _ liked  _ Penelope. He didn’t want to have to go through the process of getting to know someone else if their marriage ended in an early divorce. 

So really, the trip was part gift, part furthering a slightly selfish agenda.

What John had failed to factor in with his carefully crafted itinerary of Monaco, down the Amalfi Coast towards Sicily and Malta and then back up the Adriatic to Venice, was that Penelope and Gordon would choose to eat at from a beachside stall on their first day. John had wanted to ease them gently into the holiday and had therefore booked them three nights at the Hermitage Hotel in Monte Carlo, with all of its grand opulence, spas and fine dining, before the pink yacht that already belonged to Penelope and was waiting in the harbour would whisk them away for their tour around the Mediterranean. The three days in Monte Carlo would allow Penelope and Gordon to explore the shops, see the sights, relax on the beach, do whatever it was that newly married couples did. John didn’t really know or care, as long as the two of them had fun.

At least, that was the plan, but as ever when it came to his younger brother those plans quickly derailed. Whilst yes, they had managed to go down to the beach and wander the streets hand in hand, they had ducked into a tiny, out of the way cafe that only those two would have been able to find for lunch and whilst it had tasted fine at the time, the issue with improperly stored meat was that it lead to the rapid multiplication of bacteria that, unfortunately, led to food poisoning. As a result, instead of going out to catch a show and soaking up the atmosphere, Penelope and Gordon had spent their evening and night writhing in pain on top of the high, soft sheeted bed in their suite, making the odd, desperate dash for the bathroom with its cool marble tiles and fluffy towels. By morning, they were well and truly miserable, existing in a heap on the bed and not in the fun, relaxed way originally anticipated when first presented with their honeymoon plans.

“I feel like death,” Gordon said, cracking an eye open to look at Penelope. She turned to look at him, her face ashen and covered in sweat.

“Normally I’m not prone to exaggeration, but on this occasion I will make an exception.”

“What was  _ in  _ that… that  _ thing  _ they gave us yesterday?”

“I don’t know. I’ll ask Parker to check the food safety reports for the cafe. Once I can move, that is.”

Gordon shuddered. “I’m never moving, ever again. I don’t think I’ve thrown up so much in my life.”

“I was contemplating moving the pillows to the bathroom floor, but thought it was probably not the most hygienic of places to sleep.”

“Probably more hygienic than that cafe.”

“We don’t know it was the restaurant’s fault, Gordon.”

“Are you trying to tell me it was the catering? Trust me, if Scott got food poisoning from the wedding, we would be hearing about it, comms blackout or not.”   
  


“You raise a good point.”

They fell quiet for a while, drifting lazily in and out of the sleep they had missed the night before when their bodies had rebelled against them. At some point, one of them- and for the life of him, Gordon did not remember who- had managed to hang the do not disturb sign on the handle of their door the night before and consequently were mercifully not woken up by the housekeepers, instead left to nap on and off throughout the morning and most of the afternoon. Eventually, the death grips that had held their stomachs for the past twenty four hours started to ease, and Gordon found himself propped up against the headboard, Penelope curled into his chest, some sort of movie playing quietly in the background whilst he played with her hair.

“Feeling better?” he asked when he felt her legs stretching out against his.

“Hmm. A little, I think. You? Have you been awake for long?”

“A little while. Feeling a bit better as well although this was not how I thought our honeymoon would go. I did not anticipate wearing  _ quite _ so many pyjamas in bed.”

“Well. We might have to come back to Monte Carlo at some point in the future, I fear we may have missed out on an awful lot of sightseeing.”

“We could just… stay here, for the rest of the time. I’m sure John wouldn’t mind.”

“He might not, but I was rather looking forward to it being just the two of us.”

“That does sound appealing.”

“Thought it might. Not right now, though.”

“No. I think, maybe, we should just watch tv instead. Maybe some toast.”

“Toast?”

“Toast is always good for an unsettled stomach.”

  
“I’ll take your word for it.” 

Gordon pressed a kiss to Penelope’s forehead, her hair still slightly matted with sweat.

“Maybe we can have toast later.”

“I think later sounds perfect.”


End file.
